


make it a good one

by honeypottrap



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Cuckolding (sorta), Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Jealousy, M/M, the ex gets to fuck the new boytoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:30:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeypottrap/pseuds/honeypottrap
Summary: It's not that he wants Mitch to hate it-- it’s just hard watching him love it, practicallywrithingunder Jack.(Losing the bet was never a part of the plan.)





	make it a good one

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no dubcon!
> 
> Inspiration from [this extremely necessary visual](https://zaitseev.tumblr.com/post/172294653545/brandoncarlo-austons-reaction-to-eichels-goal) because those are _some facial expressions_ , guys.
> 
> Endnotes for more detailed warnings re: the tags.

It’s still a relatively new thing, being with Mitch. 

Jack dumped him right after All Star Break, so if Auston’s being completely honest, the hurt is still fresh, but damn if Mitch isn’t the hottest rebound he’s ever had. It’s not like there aren’t feelings involved, of course-- they’re especially prominent on Mitch’s side-- but it’s still new. Delicate. A little shallow, maybe. Auston’s not entirely sure he should’ve brought it up.

But Mitch is _pretty_ , with his long eyelashes and rumpled hair, all spread out over Auston’s bed, and that’s what decided it. So, _yeah_ , Auston wants to show him off a little, and if it means he can rub in his ex’s face, so much the better.

He’s over Jack. _Really._ He just wouldn’t mind making it sting a little bit.

Mitch is biting his lip, looking hesitant, but it’s not a no. Auston can work with that.

“It’s just-- wouldn’t it be a little weird, in front of him?”

“I know he’s seen you like that before, anyways,” Auston weedles, and Mitch’s cheeks turn pink. Auston knew those stories he’d squeezed out of Mitch about the draft would come in handy someday.

“Yeah, well. It wasn’t good, when we did it before. He’s a shitty lay.” Mitch insists, and Auston-- well, he knows firsthand that it isn’t quite true, but he needs to get Mitch’s thoughts away from the risks and on to the _reward_.

“The win’s pretty much a given, right?”

Mitch scoffs. “I mean, obviously. It’s Buffalo.” And it’s harsh, _mean_ , but it looks good on him, all cocky and confident in their team. In Auston’s team.

If he doesn’t think they’ll lose, then it’s just hesitancy about the exhibitionist aspect. Auston knows he's got him, knows how he can work this.

“So it won’t matter how he is in bed-- I just wanna show you off, baby. Send the message that we’re together. That you’re better for me.” Auston says, almost at a purr, and Mitch’s eyes finally sparkle with interest. Auston knows he’d been jealous of Jack, that he wouldn’t mind the chance to prove that _he’s_ got Auston now.

Auston was undoubtedly on the rebound, when they’d gotten together, and Mitch knows it. Even though they’ve lasted this long, Mitch gets possessive, uncertain.

Mitch hums thoughtfully, considering it. “So like, a blowjob?”

“But you look so pretty on my lap, fucking yourself on my cock.” Auston says lowly, leaning in closer. Mitch’s got a flush building high up on his cheekbones. “Don’t you remember?” Auston prompts, and Mitch inhales sharply through his nose.

Auston knows he’s thinking of the files on his phone, why he bought a floor length mirror for his bedroom-- flashes of pale skin and bared throat. Vanity is a sin, sure, but watching himself get fucked always gets Mitch impossibly hot. Having someone else watch should be a pretty painless transition.

“Fuck,” Mitch breathes out slowly, lingering on the idea. “Yeah. Okay.”

“You’re so good to me.” Auston praises, curving a hand over Mitch’s jaw, and Mitch beams, leaning in to kiss him.

\--

Jack trips Auston, takes the puck, and scores barely five minutes in.

“Nice one, Matty. Thanks!” Jack calls before getting enveloped by teammates, and it rings in his ears as Auston skates back to the bench, still breathing hard.

“Tough luck.” Mitch says, referring to his giveaway, but Auston’s more concerned about the way his smile looks a little shaky around the edges.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get him back.” Auston assures him.

“Wasn’t worried.” Mitch replies, but it sounds a little tight. He looks a lot less certain under the bright lights of the ACC, in the face of Buffalo’s offense.

But it’s just one goal, Auston reminds himself. It’s practically nothing. The exchanges Jack keeps having with Mitch, on the other hand, might be throwing the both of them off a bit. 

Auston can’t hear what they’re saying, since they’re not on the ice together, and not knowing is driving him a little crazy. Whatever it is has Mitch getting increasingly frustrated, fumbling the puck more and more. Getting sloppy. 

\--

Jack’s second goal is a lot more damning. It’s a lot more than nothing.

“ _Motherfucker._ ” Auston swears, turning away from the replay, but it doesn’t really help, because Mitch is _right there_ , eyes fixed on the screen with no small amount of trepidation.

“Shit.” Mitch whispers, not even to Auston, blinking up at the play, at the score. He looks a few steps away from frozen. The realization that they might not be able to tie it up feels crystalline, tight around Auston’s lungs. Naz jostles Mitch a little, trying to talk strategy, and Mitch leans in and nods in all the right places, but he’s obviously distracted.

 _He’s thinking about getting railed by your ex_ , Auston’s brain adds helpfully, and his stomach twists.

And-- it’s not over ‘til it’s over, but judging by the extravagant celly, by Jack’s smirking glance at the Leafs’ bench? It might as well be.

In the final minute, Auston can only watch from the bench as Mitch single-handedly forces a breakaway, one last shot before the buzzer. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the desperation when it’s blocked.

Fuck.

\--

They’d driven in together, and Mitch clears his throat once they’ve been on the road for a few minutes.

“So-- your place, right? That’s what you told him?”

“Right.” Auston can’t help but sound horribly, horribly guilty, and Mitch offers him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’ll-- it’ll be fine, you know? Just get it over with.” Mitch says, sounding uncertain in spite of his words, and Auston swallows thickly. It’s fucked up that Mitch is the one comforting _him_.

“I’m sorry, if you ask I’m sure he won’t--” Auston starts, miserable, but Mitch makes a frustrated noise.

“We’re not going to fucking back out, alright? He’ll never shut up about it. You know that. We fucked up.”

Mitch’s use of ‘ _we_ ’ usually ignites something fond in Auston, but now it just sours his mood, puts a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn’t Mitch. It was _him_.

“Right.” Auston says weakly, and they don’t talk the rest of the ride home.

Mitch slinks off to the bedroom the second they get inside, and Auston lingers in the kitchen, stalling until he can’t avoid wondering any longer. He stops in the doorway at the sight of Mitch with his boxers around his thighs, drizzling more lube over his fingers. Mitch looks up. 

It’s a pretty sight, would normally be more than enough to get him going-- Mitch is flushing down his chest, sporting a semi even as he reaches behind himself, twisting his fingers with a grimace.

Auston digs his nails into his palm and forces himself to unfreeze, hesitantly coming to stand in front of him. He knows Mitch hates prepping, and is about to offer to do it himself, but Mitch meets his eyes, skittish, and he’s already talking.

“It’s just-- he was rough, when we--” Mitch cuts himself off, getting agitated. “I don’t want it to hurt.” he whispers, looking scared and _open_ , like he trusts Auston enough to confide in, to help him. And that’s-- new, for them. It feels like a test, almost.

“Oh.” Auston’s voice cracks, and he knows he should be doing _something_ , comforting him _somehow_ , but all he really wants to do is get away from the simmering shame that ignites low in his belly at the reminder of _why_ Mitch is doing this. Why he has to. 

Mitch is slumping subconsciously forward like he wants to be held, touched, and Auston knows he should, knows he _needs_ to _,_ but-- Auston can’t handle that right now. 

He just wants the prickling feeling over his skin to stop.

“Okay, I’ll-- I’ll leave you to it, then.” Auston backs away slightly, and Mitch’s face goes through a couple of different emotions before closing off. And-- that’s the image that follows Auston into the living room to wait by the door. If it wasn’t for the way his shoulders slumped as Auston turned to go, he wouldn’t’ve been able to tell that it bothered him.

It bothers Auston, too, but the way his chest loosens again once he’s out of the bedroom? It’s more of a relief.

\--

Mitch eventually makes his way to the living room to wait with Auston. He keeps his distance, forgoing the spot on the couch next to him for a separate armchair, and Auston’s too relieved to read too much into it-- can almost ignore the situation and Mitch’s irritation until Jack shows up at the door.

“Marner. Auston,” Jack says cheerfully, stepping inside. He takes a long moment to leer at Mitch, at his rumpled t-shirt and sweatpants slung low over his hips. Mitch, who would usually lap up the attention, stiffens, and Jack frowns slightly.

“You’re okay with this, right?” Jack says to Mitch, as if Auston would force him into something like this-- it kind of feels like he did-- but Mitch just scoffs, unfailingly loyal.

“Of course.” Mitch says, almost affronted, and Jack puts his hands out in front of him placatingly. 

“Just checking.” Jack says, and reaches out to reel Mitch in with a hand on his lower back. Mitch goes easily, til he’s pressed up against Jack, and Auston can’t hold back his unhappy exhale.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll show him a good time-- I promise.” Jack says to Auston, and it sounds kind and courteous, but Auston can _feel_ the crowing undertones. He grits his teeth and focuses on Mitch-- his face, not the all-too-familiar hand resting above the curve of his ass.

“So, bedroom?” Jack prompts in the silence, and Mitch nods a bit too quickly and leads the way like Jack doesn’t already know where Auston’s bedroom is. Auston follows after a beat, tries to ignore the way his stomach feels like lead.

Mitch is visibly nervous, eyes keep flicking over to Auston’s, and Auston can’t meet his gaze-- just focuses on the way Jack’s settling over him on the bed, making Mitch look even slighter. It’s more of a surprise, then, when Jack leans down to kiss Mitch-- slowly, deeply. Mitch’s eyes fly determinedly shut, twitching when Jack ghosts a hand up Mitch’s flank.

“God, Marner-- relax, won’t you? I’m not gonna hurt you,” Jack says, sounding a little annoyed, and Mitch-- god, Mitch responds to it, eyes opening to fix Jack with a glare. He doesn’t take criticism well, even when it’s in as twisted a situation as this. “Look, we don’t have to--”

“I _know_ ,” Mitch huffs, and shuts Jack up with another kiss. Seeing Mitch be the one to initiate it is… jarring. Auston wishes he didn’t recognize the duvet Mitch is being pressed into, wishes it wasn’t his bed.

Mitch makes a surprised noise when Jack winds his fingers through his hair, pulling slightly.

“You like that, huh? Like getting pushed around?” Jack teases, testing his reactions by slipping a thigh in between Mitch’s legs, grinding down. “It’s a good thing your boy’s pretty big, then.”

“Stop, just-- stop fucking talking.” Mitch says, but he’s out of breath. He likes the meanness of it, Auston knows.

“He liked it with me, too, you know. Being the one in control.” Jack continues, ignoring Mitch, and, oh. That’s not a reminder Auston needed.

“I _know_ ,” Mitch practically growls, annoyed, but Jack’s not quite willing to let it go without twisting the knife a little further.

“You two must be a match made in heaven.” He says, pretty clearly smug.

“Could you hurry up? Thought you were gonna fuck me.” Mitch huffs, nearly knocking into Jack as he sits up, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Bossy.” Jack tsks, but he’s already complying, taking his sweet time dragging Mitch’s sweatpants over his hips-- probably just to rile Auston up, but he doesn’t hesitate before reaching down and give Mitch a few rough, dry strokes.

“ _H-hey_ ,” Mitch protests even as he gets hard under Jack’s hand, squirming away, but Jack’s already pulling lube from his pocket, slicking his fingers up.

The way they’re situated means that Auston can’t quite see Jack’s hands, has his view blocked, but it’s easier that way-- he doesn’t have to see Mitch get fully hard, doesn’t quite have to watch. Jack pushes a finger into Mitch, judging by Mitch’s reaction, but if he seems surprised by the prep, he doesn’t act like it. In fact, he doesn’t act like he notices at all, really-- takes his sweet time, fucking his fingers into Mitch-- two and then three.

Mitch stays relatively quiet, and Auston wonders if he should say something. Mitch usually hates the gradual stretch, the slow buildup, but of course there’s no way Jack could know, so Auston should probably--

Mitch makes a quizzical noise, hips jolting forward, and Jack smiles.

“There you go.” He soothes.

“Oh-- _fuck_.” Mitch gasps, breaking his silence, and Auston doesn’t need to look at Jack’s face to know he’s glancing at him with a smug smile. He tries to feel less put off by Jack’s success. Fails.

“Did he take his time, stretching you out for me?” Jack asks, “He loves that part, feeling you loosen up under his hands, like--”

“You should just fuck me.” Mitch interrupts, sounding a little cold. He doesn’t look over at Auston, but Jack does, raising his eyebrows. It’s far from an overt complaint, but it’s not exactly a flattering image of their relationship.

That’s all it takes, really, for Jack to finally slip out of his jeans and boxers. Auston shifts, pulling a condom from his pocket, but Mitch is already pressing one into his hands in the time it takes Auston to gather the courage to interrupt.

“So prepared.” Jack says, not quite mocking as he spreads his knees farther apart, the powerful muscles in his thighs drawing tight.

Auston guiltily fights the urge to look at his ass, because that’s not a thing he does anymore, which means he misses Jack getting situated until Mitch draws him out of his thoughts with a loud, unsteady breath as Jack forces himself inside.

“Fuck, that’s tight,” Jack groans, and rubs small circles into Mitch’s hips with your thumbs. “Come on, loosen up for me. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I _am_.” Mitch grits out, visibly tense, but he closes his eyes and breathes deeply, working towards it. And it works, because Jack stops looking so pinched, is finally able to start moving.

Auston should’ve expected he wouldn’t be gentle about it, wouldn’t be careful with Mitch the way Auston always is, but it’s still shocking, seeing Jack grip tighter and _pull_ Mitch down. Judging by Mitch’s increasingly loud whines, Jack’s really nailing his prostate-- it’s like he can’t hold them back. 

It’s really fucking with Auston’s head, the sounds-- familiar but happening for all the wrong reasons. The way Mitch could never keep quiet during sex never seemed like a _bad_ thing until today. It's not that he wants Mitch to hate it-- it’s just hard watching him love it, practically writhing under Jack. The condom in his hands audibly crinkles, and Auston realizes he’s been gripping it tight enough for his knuckles to turn white.

“You know,” Jack huffs, sounding far more level-headed than he should with Mitch clenching around him. “I don’t think Auston can see too well from over there, what do you think?”

Auston’s blood runs cold, and Mitch freezes at the sound of his name. Mitch’s eyes are still shut, have been since he lost all control of his mouth. 

“Marner.” Jack stops thrusting, and Mitch’s eyes fly open.

“Wait, keep going--” He protests feebly, but Jack stays firm.

“You should ask him to move closer.”

Mitch arches his back, seeking simulation, but Jack’s leaning back, pulling out. Mitch lets out a noise of frustration.

Jack hums contently in response, and smooths his hands over Mitch’s chest, catching a rosy nipple between his thumb and index finger. It doesn’t do anything-- Mitch’s chest isn’t sensitive, and Auston takes a second to be grateful that he wasn’t wrong about _that_. They’re at a stalemate until Jack slinks his other hand down Mitch’s thigh, stroking while carefully avoiding his dick, and from there it’s all over.

“Aus,” Mitch starts, and Auston’s stomach clenches at the sound. “Come closer?” He asks, and it’s punched out of him on a moan as Jack grinds forward, sinking in deep. That bastard.

Auston’s not going to be able to resist Mitch. He knows he’s going to regret it.

“Come closer,” Mitch repeats, almost begging, and it’s unnecessary, because Auston had already decided to move, but that’s the thing that does it-- has him rising and approaching the bed like he’s being pulled.

The bed shakes with each thrust, even with Auston sitting on it. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to talk, or touch, but Mitch seems content to just let him sit there, now that Jack’s resumed their rhythm.

“You’re not going to come like this, are you.” Jack states, and Mitch shakes his head.

“‘M not gonna. Can’t.” Mitch says, throwing his head back, and Auston expects Jack to switch tactics, maybe get a hand on him, but instead he just grips Mitch’s hips harder, grinds down with more force, and opens his mouth.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous like this, flushed all over. Does Auston tell you that, too?” 

Mitch blinks quickly even as he lets out a shuddering gasp. “Shut up.”

“Do you think he’d tell you now? You want him to, don’t you? Rather hear it from him than me, right? Even now.”

Mitch hiccups, his next breath coming out nearly a sob, and his hand scrambles to grab on to something-- lands on Auston’s _,_ holding tight. The words _are_ doing something for Mitch, which is something Auston knows about-- it’s taboo, that’s what he likes, but the line between Mitch enjoying it because it’s wrong and Mitch simply enjoying it feels... hazy. Has for a while now.

“Go on.” Jack prompts, undeterred by Mitch practically falling apart under his hands.

“ _Please_ , tell me,” Mitch moans-- pleads, really, and it doesn’t sound like he’s going to last much longer at all, but Jack’s looking at Auston, expecting it. Auston steels himself, looks away from Jack’s face. 

“That’s it, you look so--”, he starts, but it’s too late, or not _enough_ , because Mitch comes with a cry on Jack’s next rough thrust and Auston has to cut himself off once he realizes his boyfriend didn’t need him to come after all.

Mitch is gripping Auston’s hand like a vice, and he’s just barely started twisting, getting over sensitive when Jack groans and comes, hips stuttering deep inside.

“Holy shit.” Jack says after a long beat, rolling off of Mitch, who’s got an arm thrown over his eyes. Auston’s not sure what _his_ face looks like, but he doubts it’s particularly welcoming. He just wants to take his hand back. He just wants Jack to leave.

“I’ll just-- I think I’ll see myself out,” Jack says to the silence, tying off the condom and tossing it into the wastebasket. He misses, and Auston’s going to have to pick it up later, but it’s one step closer to Jack leaving, so Auston can’t bring himself to complain.

Mitch doesn’t uncover his face until Jack’s left, turns to look at Auston. He looks spent, tired.

“Can we sleep?” Mitch asks, and Auston’s throat feels tight.

“Yeah, I’ll just--” Auston hurries to the bathroom and comes back with a damp cloth to wipe Mitch down. His eyelids are already sinking lower, nearly dozing even as Auston cleans him up. Auston doubts Mitch notices the way his hands are shaking slightly.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Auston says.

“M’kay.” Mitch curls onto his side, pulls the covers over him, and Auston retreats to the living room. He runs a hand through his hair, looking up at the ceiling. He knows he needs to go back, but it’s so much easier to lie down on the couch, away from the rumpled covers. Away from Mitch.

He wakes in the middle of the night to Mitch climbing over him onto the couch, settling into his side. He still smells like sweat, and Auston isn’t sure he’s imagining the way he smells a little like Jack, too. 

“You never came back.” Mitch yawns into his neck. “Aren’t you cold?”

Auston shakes his head. He’s too hot, feels sweaty and restless now that he’s awake-- he’s not sure how he managed to sleep in the first place.

Mitch falls asleep again pretty quickly. Auston doesn’t.

\--

They’ve been drowsily staring into their cereal for a little while, now, and it’s almost like any other morning, except Auston woke up feeling impossibly bad-tempered.

Mitch shifts in his chair again, winces. “Jeez.” he jokes halfheartedly, lifting his tone, but it’s just the right kind of thing to set Auston off-- the thoughts swirling around in his mind just start spilling out.

“Didn’t seem like he was a bad lay to me,” Auston grumbles, and Mitch whips his head up to look at Auston, mouth agape.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re jealous?”

“Not-- _no,_ ” Auston denies, unsteady, and Mitch stops him.

“I like _you_.” Mitch exclaims, incredulous. “You can’t be serious-- it was _your idea_ , all because you’re not fucking over him.”

The blame resounding in his own head feels a lot worse coming directly from Mitch. He doesn’t have a defense for that, but--

“Like you didn’t want the chance to rub it in his face.” Auston sputters.

“We both wanted that! I didn’t want to fuck _him_!”

“Oh, but you had a good time of it, didn’t you?”

Mitch opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. No surprise there.

“That’s what I thought.” Auston says, can’t help but mutter under his breath.

“I can’t _believe_ you.” Mitch hisses, shaking his head, and retreats to the bedroom. There’s vindication, sure, but it doesn’t override the way Auston feels like shit.

**Author's Note:**

> >There's past mentioned sex between Mitch and Auston, Jack and Auston, and Jack and Mitch-- all fully consensual.  
> >Auston and Mitch are kind-of dating, so this is cuckolding, but it's negotiated. Not unknowing infidelity.  
> >Consent is given in this, but it’s not very enthusiastic. Auston watches. It's quite solidly in dubcon territory, re: sex bets.  
> >Auston doesn't have a great go of it. It's not his kink.  
>  
> 
> I'd love to hear what you thought of this! Literally any words whatsoever, coherent or not.
> 
> [+if there's anyone interested, there's a [low commitment sinbin fill fest](https://sinbinfillfest.dreamwidth.org/) happening this month (April 2018). it's gonna be great.]
> 
> EDIT: further aftermath thoughts & convo in the comments


End file.
